


take me out tonight where there's music and there's people

by vestara



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 05:00:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vestara/pseuds/vestara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Reichenbach. When Molly's love makes it back from the brink of death, John can't help but feel resentful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take me out tonight where there's music and there's people

**Author's Note:**

> (Introduction of four longer chapters. Thanks for reading!)

Before they move in with each other, Molly has no trouble waking up in an empty bed, be it hers or Greg’s. And whenever his mobile rouses them both the middle of the night, she enjoys the stubble against her cheek, the soft _Have a good day darling girl, I love you_ whispered in her ear, the streetlights outside telling her that she doesn’t need to get up for work yet.  
  
It’s different when they take the plunge and rent a small townhome together. He notices the dark circles under her eyes every time he has to wake up, suit up, and arm up to run headfirst into a homicide scene. Molly smiles. Denies it. Insists that it’s just high traffic in the morgue making her tired, and not the telly surfing she now partakes in until dawn at least once a week.  
  
When he stops waking her, they have their first real argument. Molly slams the door, throws her bag onto the dining room table, and begins, “How many times have I asked you to please--”  
  
Greg immediately puts a hand up and shakes his head. “You worked a double shift yesterday. It was 2am. Of course I didn’t get you up.”  
  
“I would have gone back to sleep!”  
  
“No, you wouldn’t have,” he rolls his eyes. “Not lately, anyway.”  
  
Blushing, Molly looks down at the floor. “I’d rather be exhausted all day than angry.”  
  
Greg gives her a moment. Crosses the distance between them. Cautiously touches her shoulder. “Wishing me luck before I go to work isn’t a magic safety spell, Molls. Don't kid yourself into thinking any differently.”  
  
At that, Molly’s lips form a thin line and she juts her chin out. “I’m not... I can’t...” _I can’t explain that it feels different now. I can’t go to sleep next to you every night wondering if a text or a knock at the door telling me you’re hurt will be the first thing I hear in the morning. I can’t do that. I need a buffer. I’m sorry for being so weak._  
  
Instead, she chokes out, “I can’t help it. I’m sorry,” and he wraps her arms around her and sighs into her hair.  
  
///  
  
Ever since his first week at the Yard, Greg’s prided himself on his attention to body language. He’s able to read a suspect or any man on the street as well as his superiors can, and after a decade of climbing and clawing through the ranks, he considers himself one of the best.  
  
The detective locks his eyes on the nervous looking young man with the same curly blond hair as the rigid woman crumpled in front of them breezing into the squalid home, ignoring the calls of _This is a crime scene you can’t be here_ and _Please sir_ and _Stop_ and Greg can feel his entire body clenching.  
  
He yells a warning and lunges in front of Sally and can’t piece together what happens next until he looks down and sees the knife jutting out of his chest, and hears gunfire, and tastes blood filling up his mouth. His last thought is _So fucking fast_ before darkness closes in.


End file.
